


A Spark of Heat

by sleepypercy



Series: Corrupting an Angel [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Corruption, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, PWP, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 18:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1034900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepypercy/pseuds/sleepypercy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam strips while Dean talks Castiel into giving orders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Spark of Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to deansdirtybb for being awesome (oh, and also for the beta)! Also, just going on record as saying that katstark and her amazing, dirty brain has gotten me a little hooked on voyeurism fics.

Dean leans down low over Castiel’s shoulder, breath desert-hot in the angel’s ear as he purrs, “What are you thinking, Cas? How does it make you feel to watch my brother strip?”  
  
Sam’s hands pause where they are, fingers hovering over the last button on his shirt as he looks at Cas, both brothers waiting curiously for an answer.  
  
The angel’s voice is strained and low when he finally speaks. “I… I don’t know. My thoughts aren’t entirely coherent at the moment.”  
  
Reaching down, Dean stretches a palm behind Cas’s shoulder blade, feeling the angel’s body instinctively mold into that touch, warmth radiating through the fabric of the white dress shirt and heating the tips of Dean’s fingers like low campfire embers. He knows that whatever hang-ups his friend might have, this body—his vessel—is willing and ready.  
  
Across the room, Castiel’s overcoat and suit jacket are flung on the table where Dean had thrown them after taking them with some pretext Cas didn’t even question. Once those extra layers were gone, Dean had led the mute angel towards a bench in the study, pushing him to sit and standing behind him while Sam leaned against a table and started peeling off layers, all smooth and languid; unmindful of his audience save for a few knowing glances he tossed Dean’s way. Castiel’s body had snapped still the moment he figured out Sam’s intentions, blue eyes stretched owlishly wide.  
  
“Do you want him to keep going?” Dean’s hand is still rubbing Castiel’s back as he waits patiently, confident that he already knows the answer.  
  
There’s a long pause, and the corners of Sam’s mouth twitch while his fingers play with the tiny, plastic button, pushing it in and out of the eyelet as Castiel hesitates and stares into his lap.  
  
“ _Yes_.” The answer comes out splintered, cracked somewhere inside Cas’s chest, and Sam’s face lights up at that broken word, pleased dimples cutting into his cheeks. Dean has to restrain himself from striding over to dip his tongue into those tiny indentations, but god, he loves it when Sam smiles like that.  
  
Sam rewards the angel by slipping that last button through the narrow slit, sliding his arms out of the sleeves, and letting the plaid material pool on the floor beside him. Usually Sam would have another layer or two underneath, but he’d dressed with this specific scenario in mind, and all that tanned, golden skin beneath the shirt is laid bare. It’s gorgeous, too. The ridges of Sam’s abs are something to be worshipped, and on those rare days when they’re in-between cases and the world isn’t ending, Dean has spent time doing just that. Traced fingers and lips across the lines of Sam’s stomach, around the cut of his hips, down the slope of his pelvis, and into every sensitive ridge that gets him over-stimulated and desperate.  
  
It had taken a bit of persuasion to get Sam here, but Dean knows that however much Sam may put on that bashful virgin pretense, he loves being on display like this. Gets off on the power of having both his brother and the angel watching his every move.  Regardless of who might be giving the orders, Dean’s never fooled himself into thinking that anyone other than his little brother is really in control.  
  
One of Sam’s hands comes up to cover his chest, rubbing his pec almost absently, although Dean knows better than to believe the move uncalculated. Soft strands of hair fall into Sam’s eyes as his head ducks down, and when his thumb brushes against a nipple, Sam’s lids flutter a little, mouth opening in a tiny inhalation. Dean’s mouth waters as he thinks about all the sounds he’s pulled from Sam while gently rolling those pink nubs between his teeth.  
  
“What do you want Sam to do now?” Cas shivers as Dean’s warm breath sweeps into the ridges of his ear. “He’ll do anything for you. Just gotta ask. Or…” Chuckling, Dean rubs his palm against the contours of Castiel’s back before continuing in a darker voice. “…you could give him an order.  Sammy’s not usually too keen on those, but in here, like this, our boy loves ‘em. They get him hard and wet faster than anything else. So c’mon, Cas. Tell Sam where to touch himself.”  
  
Castiel’s head tilts up and he stares at Sam with overwhelmed, deer-in-the-headlight apprehension. But Sam shakes the hair out of his gold-flecked eyes and meets the angel’s uneasy gaze with steady encouragement. His pink tongue pokes out to wet his lips while his head nods just perceptibly. The relaxing muscles underneath Dean’s hand forewarn him of Cas’s surrender just seconds before he speaks up.  
  
“Touch your mouth.” The words are stronger than Dean expected, and he feels something stir in his gut at the ring of authority carried out in Castiel’s gravelly voice.  
  
Color rises on Sam’s cheeks, some mixture of lust and embarrassment that Sam wears so well. His right hand obediently comes up to trace the swell of his bottom lip, fingernail catching on small tucks of skin before he slides one finger between lips that Dean’s already kissed to fullness. A small sound, too short and choked to be a moan, tumbles out of the narrow space created as Sam pushes his finger in deeper, petting at his own tongue and letting his mouth make an obscene ‘O’ around the long digit. When Sam adds another finger, lips stretching to accommodate, Cas adjusts in his chair, ass fidgeting in a way that has Dean grinning.  
  
As Sam continues sucking on the salty-flavors of his fingers, the hand that had been stroking his chest starts moving down, gliding past the dark happy trail under his navel and running along the edge of his jeans. Dean can see how badly Sam wants to touch; to rub a hand over the bulge just starting to swell against the zipper. But Sam’s fingers don’t move past the waist of his pants. He won’t go any further—not yet. Not without Castiel’s permission.  
  
When the angel stays silent, an airy, frustrated groan pushes around the fingers in Sam’s mouth, and he pulls them out to let them rest on the edge of his spit-shined lip. “ _Cas_.” Sam’s voice goes up a few notes as he begs, “ _Please_ , Cas. Lemme—can I just—?” His words choke off into a pained whine as his fingers brush into the tiny strip of skin just underneath the waistband.  
  
Sam’s transparent frustration is enough to motivate Castiel to nod permission, voice slow and serious as he says, “Yes, Sam. You may remove your pants.”  
  
Both of Sam’s hands fly down to pull down the zipper then kick the denim off, all finesse gone in Sam’s frantic need to get the too-thick material off. It’s a miracle Sam doesn’t trip over his own tangling legs in his haste. When he’s down to just his boxers, Dean’s eyes fixate on the obvious erection jutting against the front of the cotton material, a wet spot blooming dark where the tip of Sam’s cock is steadily leaking. A sudden image flashes through Dean’s mind of the angel on his knees, mouthing at that damp circle and sucking out the warm precome flavor until spit drips down his chin. Dean’s cock jumps at the thought and he grinds the heel of his hand against his crotch, wondering how long it’ll take to get Castiel to that point because _fuck_ , he can’t think of anything hotter than seeing the angel going down on his baby brother.  
  
“You gonna leave our boy hanging like that?” Dean asks, watching Castiel watching his brother. “He won’t touch until you tell him to. And god, Cas, he _really_ wants to touch. Is probably already imagining your hands on that hot body. What d’ya think? You gonna take pity on my brother? Let him touch his cock? Tell him what you want him to do.”  
  
Castiel’s cheeks are fever-flushed and his lips are parted in a way that make Dean want to grab the back of his head, slam their mouths together, and push his tongue into that opened space. But he’d made a promise to Sam last time, and he doesn’t plan on breaking it. He knows his brother’s still a little jealous over that kiss.  
  
“Put—” Castiel has to take a moment to clear his throat before he can continue. “Put your hand on your—your cock, Sam.” Sam’s muted moan is an echo of Dean’s, and Dean reaches down to shove open his jeans so he can get a hand on himself because hearing those words in Cas’s mouth is just hot as _hell_.  
  
“C-can I touch inside my boxers?” Sam asks, and Dean marvels at his brother’s restraint.  
  
Blue eyes regard Sam thoughtfully before Cas shakes his head and gives Sam a firm “No.”  
  
Nodding jerkily, Sam slides his fingers down the damp material, cupping his hand a little and stroking himself through his fabric. Dean can see small flashes of Sam’s cock through the slit, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before the flushed head of Sam’s dick peeks above the waistband.  
  
Not even the least bit shy, Dean kicks his jeans off all the way and palms himself as he watches how beautiful his little brother looks getting himself off. With one hand stroking his cock, Dean leans deeply into the back of Cas, letting the edge of his temple press into the side of Castiel’s head. Words spill out of his mouth as he tells Castiel how fuckin’ gorgeous his brother looks like this: face flushed, body clenched, sweat dripping down the line of his jaw. How, one day soon, Cas is gonna taste the salt on Sam’s skin, press his mouth into every heat-soaked flush, let Sam’s huge hands slide and press and squeeze all over Cas’s body.  
  
“Just listen to the sounds he’s making,” Dean growls out over the angel’s shoulder. “I used to stay awake at night just to catch Sammy’s noises in the dark. He was never very good at holding ‘em in, even when he knew I was awake, knew I was listening. _Fuck, Cas, are you gonna let him take off those goddamn shorts or what_?”  
  
Cas jumps a little at Dean’s last words, and the moment he gives Sam the ‘okay’ to lose the boxers, Sam kicks them off and tosses them somewhere halfway across the room. His hand is a blur on his cock and choked sounds are being punched out of his throat, soft little _uh-uh-uhs_ that Sam repeats over and over.  
  
Dean looks down and can see Cas’s hands gripping his thighs so tight that his knuckles are splotched purple and white while an erection pushes hot and neglected against the front of Castiel’s suit pants.  
  
“What’re you waiting for, Cas?” Dean chides. “No one sits out in a circle jerk. C’mon, touch yourself. That’s gotta be aching by now, man.”  
  
Sam continues making breathless noises, and both Dean and Cas keep looking back and forth between Sam’s strained, aroused body and Castiel’s lap. Dean can feel his heartbeat pulsing in his cock, thudding harder with every noise his brother makes.  
  
“Need some help?” Dean asks, trying for a smirk and failing. He doesn’t know how much longer he’s going to last, but he can’t let Castiel ignore the heat between his own legs; just has to find out what Cas looks like when he comes.  
  
Castiel ignores him, hand moving up to grip the tiny metal tab between his thumb and index finger, letting it click down each rung of teeth until the crotch is splayed open. The black fabric of his briefs fills up that empty space, and—before Dean even has to suggest anything else—Cas arches up so he can pull his pants and underwear down, shoving them below his knees. His legs spread as wide as they’ll go, and fuck if that doesn’t look like an open invitation for someone to shoulder in-between, gripping onto the meat of Castiel’s pale thighs with one hand while the other guides that swollen cock into their mouth.  
  
The moment Castiel wraps his fingers around his hard prick, a surprised groan punches out of his lungs while he surges forward and gasps. The angel’s eyes squeeze shut, and he has to take a moment to breathe before his hand starts to tentatively stroke, movements growing more confident with each up-and-down pump. Regardless of the awkward start, Cas takes to masturbation instinctively, and soon he’s letting the human drives of his body take over as he throws his head back and speeds up his rhythm.  
  
Dean’s eyes turn back to Sam because he _has_ to know his brother’s reaction. He finds Sam staring with helpless fascination, eyes drinking in the sight of Castiel jerking and gasping as his hand works dirty between his legs. Dean knows his little brother’s gotta be fucking close, can see the way Sam’s squeezing the head of his cock with every other jerk. And Dean knows just how to shove his brother over the edge, too.  
  
Dean makes his voice a loud whisper, letting his lips bump against the shell of Castiel’s ear when he says, “Sam’s been good for you, right?”  
  
Castiel’s blue eyes burst open and he nods, head bobbing up and down in a jolting motion.  
  
“Tell him, Cas. Tell Sammy how good he’s being.”  
  
“You’re being so good for me, Sammy,” Cas says, the echoed words sounding strange in the angel’s raspy voice, and it sends a _dirtyrightwrong_ ache to Dean’s cock from all the earnest sincerity coloring his tone. “You’re… stunning, Sam.”  
  
Sam groans, so close that Dean can practically smell the come ready to flood out.  
  
“Tell him to come, Cas,” Dean says, his own hand fucking his dick faster as Castiel’s breathing gets louder, and the angel’s gotta be overwhelmed by all these sensations. Somehow, though, Cas manages to take in a deep breath, voice rough and reedy but still understandable when he growls,  
  
“Do it, Sam. Come.”  
  
And Sam’s groaning loudly as he obeys, come shooting out hard and thick into his palm, dripping off his hands and onto the floor, although hell if Dean’s worried about the carpeting right now. Instead, he watches the way Sam continues to stroke himself, body shuddering as he milks himself dry, and Dean’s body goes tight as he dizzily follows his brother down, closing his eyes and falling heavily into Castiel as he spurts into the back of Cas’s dress shirt, soaking through the fabric with long stripes and wet spatters. His hand is resting on some of those stains when he feels Cas tremble, back bowing and legs shaking as Cas takes in a deep breath and practically screams out his own orgasm.  
  
Dean soothes him through it, rubbing his shoulders and making soft comforting noises until Castiel’s breathing has more-or-less returned to normal. Letting his spent dick fall from his long fingers, Sam steps closer so he can get a look at the debauched angel. Dean chuckles as he lets his chin rest on Cas’s shoulder, looking down at the mess gleaming across the back of Castiel’s calves, dripping into his pants, splattered onto the floor. Dean feels a little cheated out of seeing Castiel come because, holy fuck, everything in front of the angel is _covered_ in jizz.  
  
“Look at you, Cas,” Dean says, licking his lips and letting a smirk darken his voice. “Fuckin’ creamed yourself like a pro. You’re absolutely filthy.”  
  
And Dean’s all ready to dirty talk into the angel’s ear until he gets his friend hard again, but then Sam falls to his knees and puts one of his wide-spanning, tanned hands on the angel’s thigh, pushing Castiel’s knees further apart so Sam can lean his immense body inside. “Don’t worry,” Sam says, glancing up at Castiel through sweat-slicked hair. His mouth opens just slightly and his tongue rolls in a way that should be illegal, considering the way it makes Dean’s dick pulse hot against Castiel’s back. With a dimpled smile made of candy-coated sin, Sam catches Dean’s eye and promises, “I’ll clean him up.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel more than free to leave comments and let me know if/how you're liking this series :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] A Spark of Heat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094774) by [KatStark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatStark/pseuds/KatStark)




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